


The Wrath of Heaven

by Torus



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Sex, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gore, Jaws of Hakkon DLC, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Oral Sex, Psychological Trauma, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Smut, Trespasser DLC, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torus/pseuds/Torus
Summary: A call from an old friend makes that damned orb seem like child's play.





	1. Silent Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse any inconsistency with Dragon Age lore. Feel free to point out and I'll go back and revamp. Be prepared for this wild ride... there's sex, a lot of sex! Violence, gore and some minor character death and whatever else my muse comes up with.

**Chapter One: Silent Whispers**

Honey sunlight poured in through the open double doors and the barest waft of a summer’s breeze caused the white chiffon curtains to flutter gently. Rose colored silk melded along milk chocolate skin, hugging the luscious curves of a soft body.

A large gray arm wrapped delicately around the figure’s waist and pulled said soft body into a hard firm one. “Up early again, kadan?”

Head falling back onto the broad chest, emerald and sunset tinted hues glanced up through curled lashes at the man who’s deep voice rumbled through her frame. Niamh smiled at the familiar face as their lips brushed together, “The dreams are starting again...” She whispered just as they parted.

The qunari was quiet, knowing she would continue. “I crossed into an eluvian to stand at a dry Well of Sorrows and _he_ came to me.”

“Again?” The Iron Bull, as he had been called in a previous life, questioned.

“He walked towards me, but did not stop. He was as close to me as he had ever been, even in person.” Goosebumps rose on her skin and her arms came up to suddenly rub the mental chill away. “It was unexpected, I felt… exposed, the way he looked at me…”

“Unnerving.” Bull finished.

Niamh Trevelyan nodded before turning on her heels quickly towards their bedroom in a flurry of cloth. She made her way to the washroom, knowing that he would be right behind her.

“He has come to you many times since the end.” His eyes lingered on her pale left hand. Instinctively, Niamh flexed her fingers as if they were foreign to her person. “But your mind has been quiet for the past six moon cycles… why do they return now?”

Unsure of how to completely repress the dark thoughts of sorrow that dredged up from the depths of her subconscious, she spoke hurriedly to distract her mind, “Your lips linger with more, lover.”

His name generally sounded like the sweetest sugar falling from her tongue, but today, it was prodding. He shook his head; he had awoken many a time in the dead of night to hear the quietest of moans slip as sighs from her lips. She seemed to recall nothing of the sort, describing every dream to him in detail combined with all of her hopes, dreams and deepest fears.

“Are you sure that Fen’Harel did not touch you, Nia?” The stone colored male refused to speak the name _Solas_. Solas was their friend, comrade, someone he would have taken an arrow for… not the bastard that threatened their very existence.

Head tilting to the side, dusty silver strands shifting with the movement, “You always ask me that… and the answer remains the same, no. He only talks to me in elvhen… sometimes I can understand the words, but many times I do not.” A silence passed between them. After the events at Mythal’s Temple, which felt decades ago, her knowledge of the People’s language was extensive so the inability to suddenly not understand it was concerning.

Pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb, the woman sighed.

“I apologize, kadan. I do not mean to upset you. You and I both know that there is something more to what visits you when you sleep.”

“That’s what I’m...”

Their conversation was suddenly cut short as an urgent bell resounded within the room and a flashing red light appeared. The two moved quickly, slipping into defensive stances before realizing that it was the magic crystal that was settled onto one of the bedside tables.

“Dorian...” Niamh muttered as she eased pass Bull and picked up the gem. It warmed in her hands and the smooth voice of Master Pavus glittered across.

“I hope I was not disturbing an intimate moment between you and Bast, but if you need to continue, feel free to not mute me.” Oh, how his chuckle soothed her ears as she giggled in response.

“You could always join us, you know.” Bull cut in from the background.

“Always with the teasing. Be careful, I might take you up on that offer one day.”

Nia rolled her eyes, they always teased each other and to be honest, she’d pay to see the two rolling across their large bed as she indulged in a bit voyeurism and self-satisfaction. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but…”

Clearing his throat, Dorian grunted, “Yes, it’s urgent and it’s important. I need you two in Tevinter.”

A look passed between Bull and the former Herald of Andraste. “When?” They asked in unison.

“Yesterday.”

Bull started to move with no further explanation, but kept his ears open as he listened in.

“We are packing now. Give me a rundown though.” The energy in the room was up by at least ten. Niamh shrugged out of her robe, chucking it onto the bed without a further thought.

Placing the crystal back on the nightstand, she quickly started to bind her breasts and slip on undergarments.

“It is a bit hard to explain, Nia. It is easier to show you. I will open a portal for you. You will be placed at the city gates and a trusted advisor will bring you to me and from there...”

“We will continue forth. Should we…?”

“Yes, you should.” Dorian answered he question before she could finish it. It was a confirmation that they should come prepared for anything.

 

**..xXx..**

 

Energy thrummed in her veins as they stepped out of the portal. She was not sure if it was the lingering magic from the bending of space or it was from the ancient wards that surrounded Minrathous. Or perhaps it was the deep shadows cast by the mountainous golems that guarded the gates of the bridge that lay before them.

Dormant as they were, there was a delicate hum that she could feel radiating off of sky scraping figures.

Bull held his mouth in a firm line, face unreadable. Niamh knew he had slipped back into his mask, a form of both protection and observation. As they walked closer to the figure of the man that waved to them, his hand brushed along hers in a gentle form of reassurance.

His strength always soothed her, his calm energy even in the height of battle had her believing she could accomplish anything as long as he was by her side and despite stepping closer to the unknown of Dorian’s urgent call. She inconspicuously bit her bottom lip in want at the thought of ravishing the delectable creature who walked by her side. _We did skip our morning romp._ She mused to herself before letting the thoughts fall into the ether of her mind.

Bowing before them was a tall, thin male with a voice of baritone vocals that did not match his appearance, “Master Bastoren and Mistress Trevelyan, welcome. I am Agostin Forentin, Magister Pavus has requested that I bring you to him.”

The two nodded in unison, “Thank you.”

Agostin gave the barest of an inclination to the gatekeepers, wispy strains of salt and pepper hair dancing delicately with the motion. The gates opened with nary a sound and as the three stepped through, the barrier surrounding the city bended and molded to allow their passage.

Walking in an easy silence, Niamh took in the ancient structures that loomed in the distance. The last time she had come to Minrathous was nearly six years ago, and desperately the place had seen better days. The bridge, at the time, could only be traversed in the middle for fear of falling through weak rocks on the sides into the dark ocean below and the aged smell of years of grime and basic human usage would assault the senses so violently that she struggled to keep her stomach from revolting.

Yet, at this point, the bridge had been completely renewed, the deep red rocks had been reshaped and patched correctly and even widened to allow for ease of passage of traders; and the salted sea air that rolled off of the waves was refreshing.

They passed through another barrier once they set foot onto the cobblestoned road. Buildings on either side held stories of times long past, intricately designed features that no other city outside of the Tevinter Imperium held.

Nia found herself holding her breath. Her own humanity and magic felt alive under her skin, blood pulsing quickly as she took in everything that the oldest human settlement was offering to her curious eyes and eager mind.

Bull, on the other hand, kept a close eye as more and more people became present the deeper they sunk into Minrathous. Awareness was a skill never to forget as he watched closely the movement of people around them. His attention also never wavered from Nia long, letting a few moments of amusement pass over him as he watched her watch the city.

Many of the Tevinter citizens recognized the two immediately. The Iron Bull, leader of the Chargers, mercenary for hire and Tal-Vashoth and by his side, an unlikely pairing, was the Inquisitor, Lady Niamh Trevelyan, a noble _mage_ from the Free Marches.

Those were their identities in a previous life though. The Bull had left behind his birth name, Hissrad, when he became the Iron Bull and Iron Bull died when he turned on the Qun. After the dismal events of the Exalted Council, it was time for a change. He was called Bastoren now.

And the Inquisitor? She was simply Niamh, a mage who, for at a time, was at the helm of the ship for the known world. The burden of being the Herald of Andraste still weighed heavily on her shoulders and even with the duties stripped from her, her desire to put back on a similar title as a noblewoman was fleeting, if at all existent. Thus even her Trevelyan title strained her senses.

Agostin stopped in front of a rather boring building. It was plain compared to the others. Not plain enough to stand out, but plain enough for those with keen eyes to notice that something was different, or perhaps that was how it appeared to them? While the other buildings held gold trimming and carefully carved windows with sheets of colored glass, this building had simply windows with darkened glass and the molding held simple symbols of several Tevinter nobility.

The door was also different; it was missing any way to open it.

Acutely, Bastoren and Niamh listened as the barest whispers floated from the mage’s lips and with a push of his hand, the door opened.

Their guide quickly disappeared into the pervading darkness of the house, and the couple hesitated.

They trusted Dorian right? _Right._ Nia thought to herself, yet it was struggle to get her feet to ascend the steps. Why did she feel as she was stepping into something that was going to change her life more than that damned orb?

 

**..xXx..**

 

The moment they entered the building, the door slammed shut behind them and immediately veilfire lit the area with its green glow. Niamh was not comforted by the glow as she had been in the past where she knew it would reveal deep mysterious. This time it was foreboding.

“You made it,” The wonderfully familiar voice broke her from her train of thought and without another second, the young woman tossed herself towards the owner of said voice.

“Dorian!” She squealed as a child on the Day of the Giving. The distinct scent of his shampoo and cologne bought an immense amount of peace she did not realize had left her.

Strong arms easily caught the chocolate skinned woman. “Oh, how I have missed you, Nia.” He whispered, knowing she would catch his words. As often as they spoke, they rarely were able to meet up outside of an impromptu lunch or pop up visit due to his schedule over hers.

Conversations never felt the same as seeing your soulmate in person. In no lifetime did he imagine that she would become so important to him and it pained him to bring her into this after their lives were ripped apart by that little round object.

“If I didn’t know you preferred a more broad shouldered figure, I’d be jealous of you holding my woman for so long,” Bastoren chuckled, arms crossed in a relaxed manner.

Dark brown eyes peeked up from Niamh’s neck as the two parted. A paused passed between the two men before they embraced with boisterous laughter and hugs.

Dorian could not prevent the slight shiver of being enveloped by the 6’7 figure and he briefly let the offer of joining Bast and Nia in bed dance in his head before it was quickly pushed away. They were, unfortunately, not here for laughter, teasing and acquaintanceship with his bed.

Straightening up, the magister cleared his throat and Bastoren and Niamh made eye contact. He was about to tell them some bad news.

“Will you two stop with the telekinesis already?” Dorian’s comment broke the tension that was building in the air and the three let out a group chuckle. “As I am sure you have been musing, there is a specific reason I bought you here,”

He moved as he talked, quickly taking a braizer down from the wall and started to walk.

“Veilfire is the only thing that keeps this place intact, in case you are wondering. No, I don’t know why exactly why just yet, but … what we do know is that this place...”

“An eluvian!” Niamh gasped as they came to a stop in front of the large mirror. “It looks untainted!”

“It is untainted. How this… elvhen piece of history has hidden itself in plain view of the entire Tevinter Imperium is a mystery to me. I have Agostin pulling from every library that we can reach into without stirring attention. Someone, somewhere during sometime knows about this.”

Nia walked up to object that sung with power; its song was near hypnotizing. She did not remember these portals singing to her before. “Do I want to ask how you found this out?”

“I had a dream...”

While each of them were too engrossed in the conversation to notice, Bastoren’s eyes widened at the admittance.

“A dream… and it just led you here?”

Dorian nodded.

Niamh’s face scrunched up, the implications did not go over her head, but her attention was quickly taken by the sudden change in the texture of the eluvian’s frame. “Dorian, is this elvhen?”

“Yes, but not a form I’ve ever encountered before. I was hoping you could read it.”

Waving her hand, Dorian stepped closer at the gesture to bring the veilfire closer. Squinting, fingers glided along the etched, foreign writing that felt like home to her, “Bones to dust, dust to earth, fade into the Ether.”

As the last syllable rolled off of her lips, a bright light burst forth from the reflective glass, forcing the three to jump back.

“You know, I’m starting to really see why Varric called you a magnet for the strange.”

“Don’t tell me we are going through that?” The Qunari grumbled, the sound reverberating deep in his chest.

“ _No. We only want her.”_ A sickly mix of voices hissed from the depths of the mirror as a golden chain shot out and wrapped around Niamh’s waist.

With a speed that only years of training could achieve, Bastoren moved as if he had become a rouge, grabbing onto both of Nia’s arms as she struggled against the chain. Dorian fell into place, hands lighting up quickly as he tethered Bastoren into the ground. A blazing silver sword manifested in his hand as he swung down on the chain, attempting to sever it. The blow bounced back, breaking the magic and tossing the mage back several feet. Dorian crumpled to the ground, appearing disoriented from the discharge.

“Ah!” Niamh screamed as the chain tightened around her waist, winding around more to cut through her shirt. She could feel her arms slipping through Bastoren’s fingers and for the first time in a very long time, she questioned his strength. Was he strong enough to save her?

A deep fear flashed through her eyes and it reflected in his. “I will not let you go, kadan! Don’t even think it!”

Teeth gritting, a ripple of pain shot through her. She felt as if she was being pulled apart.

“ _Resistance is futile.”_ Another disgusting hiss assaulted her ears as she could feel the building up of power coming from the eluvian and with a force akin to the blast that leveled the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Niamh Trevelyan was gone.


	2. The Mistress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Familiar faces and a delicious memory...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comment! I hope you like this next one!

**Chapter Two: The Mistress**

In an instant, Niamh went from clinging desperately to her lover’s hands to sputtering out liquid that dared to suffocate her. Hands flailing and feet kicking, the young woman managed to get herself into an upright position enough to take a gasping breath of air.

Blinking rapidly, she attempted to remove the water from her eyes and focus on her surroundings. Wherever she had landed, ocean, sea, lake or otherwise stretched on for as far as her vision went.

A perpetual mist settled over the area, giving the appearance of gray nothingness. Shifting, Niamh started to kick, easily gliding herself to swim.

“Where I am?” She spoke out loud. No sign of the voices that had consumed her into the void, no sign of the chain that viciously ripped her into the eluvian; it was just nothing.

She was unnerved by the odd slothing of the water she was in, if she concentrated enough it sounded like moans. A shiver ran through her form as her determination to get out of the water was kicked up; something was wrong and she needed to be on land.

Stopping, she lifted her hands from the water and cupped them. Seconds passed as she focused on the spell in mind and instantly did the magick in her spirit thrum to her call. A glowing sphere shot up from her hands and in her mind’s eye she was able to see further out.

Attempting not to let the fear that was swirling in her heart grow, she kept focusing. There was nothing in any direction.

A voice cut through her thoughts, causing the orb above to shatter in a sparkle of light.

“What are you doing?”

Scrambling back was a bad idea when floating as she lost her perception of buoyancy and started to struggle. A warm hand shot out and pulled her up onto the bank that the figure was standing on. “I surely cannot have you dying on me, Mistress.”

Heaving and coughing, Niamh managed to sputter out a thanks as she fumbled around on the ground, “Where did this come from?”

“It was always here.”

She wanted to say bullshit, but she was immensely thankful to be on stable ground. The woman stood to her feet, finally concentrating on the figure – correct two figures. Two androgynous humanoid creatures stood in front of her dressed in beige tunics and matching long pants with the ankles and wrists adorned with a gold trim. Simple flats adorned their feet. Unimpressive dark hair fell down to their shoulders and they stood only a few inches below her five foot, seven inch frame. Yet what really caught her was the remarkably bright and expressive amethyst eyes that gazed at her inquisitively.

“What are you?” Niamh pulled her attention back from the finer details.

“Whatever you wish us to be.” The twins, as she had mentally dubbed them, spoke in unison.

“What do you mean?”

“You summoned us, so we are whatever you desire us to be.”

“I did not summon you.”

“Were you not the one who spoke our awakening marked on our encasing?” The one on the left asked.

“Um...” She bit her lip, “You mean the eluvian?”

They nodded, “The People bound us to the mirror, having us sleep until called upon.”

“You mean the elves?”

“Your terminology is foreign to me.”

“Okay, let me wrap my head around this...” The figures blinked, facial expressions puzzled. “Excuse me, it means, I am trying to understand this. You, whatever you are, were put into the eluvian to sleep by the People, when I spoke the words on the eluvian, it awoken you… and you dragged me here why? And are there more of you?”

“Yes, correct. We were instructed to sleep until called and to transport the caller to us. Yes, there are other entities similar to us but we are the only us.”

Niamh frowned. “So, where am I?”

“The Sea of Lost Souls.”

 _How convenient._ “Wait, wait...” Eyes darted to the ‘water’. “Are those…?”

“Yes, these are the souls of those who have been banished from the Fade or found themselves off of the path to the Ether.”

A shudder of disgust rolled up her spine as her stomach turned. Nia was positive she had swallowed a piece of someone’s soul and now they were in her! Internally she was panicking and attempting not to vomit, but she forced the urge to excavate her innards down and continued to press for information.

“So, just confirming, you’re not going to kill me despite the aggressive way I was pulled in?” She motioned to her torn shirt and visible bruises.

“Why would we kill our mistress?”

“Look, stop calling me that. You do not belong to me. I want to understand why I was ripped away so harshly.”

“We do though. We are yours to command until our demise or we are assigned to another through your will.” Crystallite eyes darkened with an emotion she was not sure what to call it and a look passed between the two as their eyes met. “We like giving a good surprise every now and again.”

Niamh sighed, heavily, as her eye twitched at being in the middle of some spirits’ excitement. While alleviated that she was not in immediate danger, she was still in the middle of another situationship. What god’s lawn did I shit on in a past life? At least she was better prepared for being tossed into the unknown.

“Okay… well considering you are… mine. What do I call you? I am Niamh.”

There was a pregnant pause between the two, “In a previous life, I was called Aiwin, but you are free to rename me to your liking.” This was the one on the left.

“I was called Able.” Eyes darted to the one on the right.

Waving her hand around suddenly, “No! No more responsibility for me. Aiwin and Able are fine. How do I tell you two apart though?”

A simultaneous snicker resounded from their throats. “Request a change in appearance.”

Grumbling, she shoved a finger into the chest of Able. “You, change your eye color to match mine.”

In seconds, Able’s outer iris turned a sparkling green with the inner iris changing to a deep, sunset orange. Satisfied, Niamh nodded.

“Now, I need to get back to Thedas where you ripped me from. How do I get back?”

“We find another one of the People’s portals.” The statement came matter-of-fact as if she should have known.

Eye twitching again, Niamh bit her tongue, “And just exactly where would that be?”

“The next closest one is in the Forest of the White Wolves.”

_Of-fucking-course._

“And how do we get there?”

“Are your feet injured, Mistress Niamh?” Able inquired genuinely.

Well, that answered her question.

**..xXx..**

“Bastoren, stop!” Dorian’s voice broke through the rage that had been building in the hulking Qunari. “If you destroy the eluvian, we have no way of getting her back!”

Fists inches away from the glass fell to his side quickly, chest rising and falling, body quivering. “Do something, Dorian! Command it to open!”

Attempting to rub the pain that was throbbing behind his eyes away to focus, his voice barely above a whisper, “I-I do not know how, Bast, it is why I called you two.”

Slamming the wall next to the portal was no relief, even as the stone crumbled under his powerful blow, “If only I was _stronger_...” Bastoren’s words came out deep and gravelly.

The deep sorrow stabbed into the Tevinter magister’s heart like a thousand daggers, “I-I should have never called especially with what she has gone through, but with the changes in the Veil growing ever more volatile.”

“We’ve all been through hell and back. I know that you would never call us unless it was dire.” He could hear a pain in the mage’s voice like no other. “Where do we go from here?”

“We’ll need to gather the others, immediately.” With his resolve building back up, his jaw set firm, “We’re going to need help.”

Arms crossed along his broad chest, the man formerly called Iron Bull, nodded.

Dorian quickly made his way back to the front of the building with Bastoren close on his heels. When they stepped outside, Agostin was waiting patiently. Noting that they were short one person, the two mages met eyes and the older male fell into pace without a word.

“Make an urgent request for a meeting with Divine Victoria, include the words _‘the sparrow’s wing is broken’_ … we should have no resistance in getting a moment of her time. We also need to get in contact with Red Jenny and our fastest messengers to Kirkwall for Cullen and Viscount Thethras.”

“I will gather my Chargers and reach out to Thom,” Bast grunted, as much as he disliked the lies from the Grey Warden pretender, he was nothing but a great help during their time in the Inquisition, and always a loyal companion to everyone, especially his kadan.

Agostin departed quickly to do as requested as Dorian and Bastoren continued to forward.

“Would it be worthwhile to reach out to Orlais?” Bastoren did not fail to note that they were on the road to Dorian’s home.

“Absolutely, Josephine is a must. We will need her for contacting Vivienne and for playing the game in a manner that...”

“Neither of us have a tongue for.”

A smirk spread across his handsome face, “Precisely!” Dorian beamed. “Our tongues are well suited for other matters, but for this, we need a different talent.”

The pun made Bastoren’s stomach rumble in laughter.

**..xXx..**

Doors bursting open, Dorian frowned at the disturbance, but the expression quickly changed as he noticed who it was. “What is this that you lost the Inquisitor?!”

“Ah, Cassandra!” The magister stood from his seat, shifting books, scrolls and parchments from out of his path. His library had seen better days.

“Don’t you dare Cassandra me, Tevinter! Where is the Inqui- Niamh!” The Lady Seeker, Cassandra Pentaghast, quickly brushed off the male’s attempt at a greeting. The scowl on her face reminded Dorian fondly of their stare offs while passing each other in Skyhold.

Clutching his hands over his heart, Dorian whined, “You wound me… I thought we were on first name basis?”

With a growl to match Bastoren’s, Cassandra glared, “Yes, when you are not blasting our Niamh off into the unknown!” Frustrated, the short woman attempted to hold off on a barrage of unruly insults at the magister. They were all aware of the changes of the energy in the air, previously closed rifts re-appearing only to flicker closed shortly after. At least the former War Council members, Bastoren, Dorian and Varric had kept in regular contact since the Exalted Council and knew of their collective efforts to find any hint of the vanished elves and the trail of bed crumbs left behind by the Dread Wolf. “I apologize...”

“No apologies necessary… I-I did start all of this.” Dorian sighed.

“No, Solas started this. Let’s focus on the real threat.” Another scowl, another grunt, “From the destruction of the Temple of Ashes, the death of thousands across Thedas… yet it did bring all of us together. The Maker destined this, however deadly.”

Dorian kept silent, Cassandra always needed a moment to talk through her thoughts. As life had continued, even teetering close to the end of existence, he was not sure on his stance of the Maker anymore. Being in the Fade and seeing the Black City in the distance, forever looming, both confirmed and denied the teachings of millions of religious and philosophical members across Thedas with contradictories left and right.

The Seeker of Truth shook her head, braided ponytail swinging with the movement. “Has Leliana responded?”

“Yes, I sent her mage advisors the information on creating visualization portals. We’ll be able to securely speak to the Divine as if she was standing next to us. Josephine, Cullen and Thom are on their way as well. We’re still waiting on responses from Red Jenny and Varric.”

“Do you really think it is necessary to include the Viscount and Sera?” Dorian did not miss the light pink blush that flushed Cassandra’s face at the mention to the surface dwarf.

For now, he’d ignore it because he preferred to keep all his limbs, “Yes. Sera, as strange and troublesome as she can be, has whatever weird network of eyes and ears. Some rich noble somewhere has stolen and is hording elvhen artifacts that could be an eluvian or unlock another eluvian or something to get us into the Crossroads. Varric is a wealth of information and at the very least, he deserves to know.”

“… very well, I suppose those are valid reasons.” Cassandra hesitated in her response before looking around, “Where is Bull? I can only imagine how he is feeling.”

Dorian crossed his arms and shrugged, “After all messages were sent out, he went to gather his Chargers. I am sure we’ll see him soon.”

A silence settled in the room for a brief moment, “Do you think we will find her?”

The mage’s mouth opened and then closed, unsure if he’d be able to answer that without his fears bubbling up.

**..xXx..**

  
There was no such thing as time in whatever dimension she was residing in and with the endless display of nothing on either side of her, Niamh was having a hard time for outright yawning in boredom.

“So, do you two talk?”

“Of course.” Aiwin responded.

“No, I mean, conversation. We’ve been walking for quite sometime and neither of you have said much.”

“We speak when spoken to,” Able confirmed nonchalantly.

“Well, I am speaking to you and I’ll probably start sleep walking unless we get some conversation going.”

“Very well, what would you like to talk about?”

Pausing, she licked her lips, “What are you? Where are you from?”

“We are servitors. We were created many years ago when the first of the People arrived by a master in one of the early houses. We were born of their own spirit and will of protection.”

Servitors had been a course topic that she had ravishingly dived into while in the Circle, but dismayingly, it had very little real world practical applications. “And you have survived all of this time? How? I know the Servitors can be transported to different items or locations in which they are housed, but wouldn’t your master be dead?”

“If we are given to another and bound to them, our existence can be in the same manner as what you would call immortality. Though that can be debated… whenever we are assigned to someone new, our own nature changes to suit the needs of that specific being...”

“So you change a little each time, never exactly the same as before.”

“You are an inquisitive one, Mistress Niamh.” Aiwin commented and the woman could have laughed. If only they knew she held that title once!

“Have you retained the memories of everyone before me?”

The two nodded and further sparked Niamh’s fascination, “Have you come into contact with others like myself?”

Able shook his head, “You appear to be what the People called a ‘shemlen’, but you are not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your essence is different.”

Puzzled for a brief moment, she quickly offered a plausible explanation, “I was apart of an event that branded me with a magickal mark… what was called an Anchor and imbued me with abilities not of the human world.”

“Do you still have this Anchor? I’d love to see it.”

“No, I lost it two years ago.” She was expecting a why, but it did not come. Instead, both Aiwin and Able had stopped.

Looking around, she noticed them concentrating on thin, green veins that were curling out towards them.

“We have arrived on the edge of the forest… be aware that this place does not like its guests to leave.”

Goosebumps formed over her arms and she quickly rubbed them away. She had the same feeling like she did when falling into the Fade, except with the absence of the sheer determination to stop Corypheus that had clouded her mind. The determination had shielded her spirit from faltering even when faced with her deepest nightmares, yet now… her nightmares were an actual reality.

The servitors started to walk without another word and Niamh quickly fell into the same pace, not wanting to be behind.

“What exactly is this forest?”

“It is just another place in the Between.”

“The Between?”

“The spaces between your world, the Fade and the Ether.”

“And do entities live here?”

“There are essentially very little places in our universe where nothing exists.” Able ducked to dodge a wayward branch. The gray nothingness had started to disappear with every step, as if it never existed and the greenery sprung into view like a single stalk bursting from its seed.

 _We are at the Crossroads then, well at least the same reality._ While not exactly in the same place where Morrigan’s eluvian had taken them nor where Briala’s eluvian had placed them, this was the _same_ , she was sure of it!

Lips posed to ask another question, a moan stopped her. Head turning towards the sound, another one rippled through the air. “Did you hear that?”

There was no response from Aiwin or Able and Niamh suddenly found herself alone. Immediately on defense, she pushed her senses outward attempting to pick up anything threatening, yet she felt nothing but a delicate pull in in her sacral.

Her feet started to move with the pull and with every step, the moans grew louder until… “Oh, Bull!”

Body tensing before a release of adrenaline flushed through her system, she rushed towards the call, only to stop in a familiar clearing to catch herself riding the magnificent figure that was her kadan.

Silver locks wild, cascading down her back in tangled curls that clung to her sweat soaked skin, breasts bouncing in tune as her hips circled around the Iron Bull’s cock.

Large hands were circled around her waist, helping to lift her as he thrust upwards into her dripping sex. What an experience to lock eyes with yourself just as you reached your climax. The heat was intoxicating… but something else was supposed to happen here…

“Solas, are you going to join us or just enjoy the show?” Bull’s voice was thick and husky.

Niamh remembered this… it was shortly after freeing Crestwood from the rift in the lake and clearing the perpetual rain and darkness that had engrossed the town since the Blight. The quad had split up at Caer Bronach for a much needed break. Varric had taken the chance to mingle with the merchants while Solas spoke of a thin spot in the Veil he was interested in investigating.

The couple had decided that this was a perfect chance to release their pent up needs from weeks of traipsing across soggy, demon invested grounds. Even the few quickies they managed to slip in while crushed together with two other adults in a small tent was not enough to quill their fiery libidos.

Attention darting between the memory in her mind’s eye and the scene playing out in the twisted reality before her; Solas approached the couple as he pulled off his shirt. His pale skin looked soft in the sun, but as her fingers twitched, she knew that tightly corded, firm muscles lay underneath.

In a smooth motion, Bull pulled himself from underneath Niamh, holding her form so that she did not tumble over as she came down from her high. Turning her around, he settled his cock between her firm buttocks just as Solas stood before her, stripped completely naked.

The two locked eyes, her face holding a devious level of lust as she wrapped a hand around Solas’s dick that stood at attention before her eager mouth. Lips parted, she eased herself closer to wrap them around the head…

“Mistress Niamh!”

Startled, the young mage jumped as the scene before her eyes vanished and she was left with heavy breasts and an aching sex.

“What did you see?” Aiwin’s studious eyes seemed to pierce through her soul and she felt very vulnerable.

“I-I do not know...” Eyes darting back to what had been the clearing, yet what was there was just a thicket of heavy brush.

“Stay close, as we said, this forest loves to keep its guests.”


End file.
